


His Brother's Girl

by MrsHawkingOfficial (Breakinglight11)



Category: Mrs. Hawking series - Roberts/Gabin
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, Canon Compliant, Cinnamon Roll, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Drama, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pre-Canon, Teen Angst, Unrequited Love, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17204720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breakinglight11/pseuds/MrsHawkingOfficial
Summary: "Nathaniel James Hawking, do you mean to tell me you were in love from afar with your brother's girl?" The great drama of Nathaniel Hawking's life-- how he call to fall for the woman who would become his wife, back when he thought she might end up his brother's.





	His Brother's Girl

**Author's Note:**

> From the backstory of the Mrs. Hawking theatrical series-- "What if Sherlock Holmes were more like a lady Batman?" Visit the official website (www.mrshawking.com) to check out the shows!

The first time Nathaniel ever saw her, she was on his brother’s arm. She was hardly the first beautiful girl Justin had brought around; he certainly had an eye for them, and just as much of a knack for winning them over. But even so, this girl stood out among their number, such that even that first time, Nathaniel couldn’t help but take notice of her. It just so happened she was exactly his sort, petite and buxom, with wavy dark hair hanging in tendrils to frame her face. But more than that, when she took his hand as Justin introduced them, she looked up at him through her lashes and said, “My, Justin. I see there are good looks somewhere in the family.”

He knew she said it only to tease his brother, but still he was absurdly pleased by the compliment— in truth, her mocking Justin with it was the only thing that could have pleased him more. So when she gave her name, Nathaniel was not likely to forget it. “Clara. Miss Clara Partridge.”

He would see a great deal of her in the days following, rather to his surprise. Justin was known to see any number of girls at any given time, so the chances of one in particular remaining long in his company were anyone’s guess. But apt as Justin was to flit about, against all precedent she had managed to capture his attention in a way most others had not. She was of an age with him, coming out in the same year and attending all the same parties. And because she spent so much time in his brother’s company, Nathaniel often found her in his.

In short order he came to know her, over games of cards, afternoon teas, and at society balls, where she would come impeccably turned out in dress and wit alike. And while he could not speak for Justin, it quickly became clear to Nathaniel what made her so special. That fine-eyed girl had a rapier wit, which she wielded with such speed and precision she scored her points before most could even ready their defenses. And even as she pierced and thrust, she maintained an unassailable ladylike bearing that left her sparring partners totally disarmed. Even at her most scathing, she was such charming company people were grateful to be scathed. Of course she was sparkling in conversation and endlessly gracious, but most remarkable of all to Nathaniel was how she made him laugh.

At first he told himself it was nothing, that she was simply a charming girl, prettier than most, whose company he happened to enjoy. It could be nothing more than that, since not only was Clara interested in his brother, Justin seemed to return it to a remarkable degree. When pressed on the subject, Justin remained mysterious, but the fact was that he rarely saw so much of any other girl. By the standards of other young men he might have seemed his familiar playboy self, but it was enough that their father actually wondered if she would be the one to finally settle Justin down. And even though it put a stone in the pit of his stomach, even that wasn’t enough to show Nathaniel the truth.

What did it came not long after, at a party at the London home of Charles Hearst, an old schoolfellow of theirs from Harrow. Charles was showing off his new phonograph when Clara asked if anyone would dance. 

“It seems a shame to waste the music.” She looked to Justin, who was absorbed in a game of cards. “What do you say, then?”

“Perhaps later, dear.”

“Come now!”

But still he waved her off. “Not in the middle of a good hand!”

With a dramatic sigh, she turned to Nathaniel with her great dark eyes. “Fine! What about you, then? Or are you as dull as that one is?”

He tried not to jump as his heart did. As had become his habit, he brushed it aside, only that he was fond of dancing and enjoyed when she made fun of Justin. But when the fingers of one hand clasped with hers and the other closed around her waist, the thrill that ran through him was not to be explained away. And the chance just to look at her, look into her eyes without it being too strange to stare, made the rest of the world fade until there was nothing but else but her.

Before long she became the bright point of any gathering she attended. Then he began looking forward to any occasion he knew she’d be present, and hoped that any other might be. It was when he found himself thinking of her for no reason at all that he knew he was in some trouble.

He tried not to be utterly ridiculous about it. Handsome and clever as he was, Nathaniel did well enough with girls himself; Eliza Graham had been known to switch place cards so that she could sit by him, and Delia Bond had been the one to kiss him after the Mayday picnic. There was no need to be envious of Justin. But there was something about Clara, something that meant no one else compared.

They were friends, certainly, easy in conversation and comfortable in each other’s company, but it was clear she didn’t see him the way she saw Justin. Words, jokes, and banter flew like arrows between them, ceaseless, effortless. As much as it pained him to admit it, the two of them crackled together, matched as evenly in wits as they were in good looks and charm. True, they teased each other relentlessly, but all with a look in the eye and a frisson of chemistry that made Nathaniel’s guts churn in desperate envy. 

What that chemistry meant, he tried not to think on too deeply, given Justin’s playboy habits. Nathaniel had always been a good boy, certainly in comparison with Justin, but still he had something of a morbid fascination for the stories of his brother’s exploits. If they were to be believed, even girls of breeding and character beyond reproach found the chance for a dalliance with Justin to be too enticing to pass up. Nathaniel had been losing sleep for weeks over Clara, but when the thought occurred to him that she might be among them was enough to keep him staring at the ceiling until dawn. 

He had to get her out of his head. He tried to distract himself with work, friends, even making the acquaintance of other ladies, but it all seemed dull and hollow when he could think only of her. The only remedy he could fathom was to spend less time in their presence, at least in Clara’s, if he was to have any chance of forgetting her. But avoiding them was difficult, as most of the occasions they came out together, Nathaniel was socially obligated to as well. And try as he might, there was simply no way to ignore them. Of course Clara, if nothing else, forced Justin to behave. But still there were always small intimacies that ate at him every time, everything from the way she entered the room on his arm to the swift stolen kisses when they thought no one was looking. But Nathaniel always looked at her, even when he knew it would hurt. 

He did everything in his power to keep his feelings to himself. Even beyond his growing attachment to Clara, resentment for Justin battled with guilt over having an eye to his brother’s girl. Fortunately he had a knack for putting on a good front, but it took all his skill at smooth talking and never-say-die attitude to maintain the illusion. Indeed, he managed to keep it from all the important players in his life, excepting only his uncle, the Colonel.

Since he’d been a small boy, he and his uncle had been close. The Colonel was abroad a great deal, serving queen and country like the hero that he was, but Nathaniel’s ardent admiration for him meant that he spent every moment with him that he could. Unique among all Hawkings, Uncle Reginald was by custom quiet and reserved, known to listen and observe rather than to speak. It meant that Nathaniel found him easier to talk to than his own father, and having no living children of his own, the Colonel loved Nathaniel in that place. And when on one occasion his uncle attended a family gathering upon returning from deployment, after Nathaniel had concealed it from the rest of them for months now, it took Reginald all of one evening in his presence with Clara to notice the handful of moments where his equanimity failed. 

The Colonel took him aside after dinner, talking at first of other things. But eventually he asked, much to Nathaniel’s surprise, after what was wearing on him so. “Am I wrong tonight in thinking that you don’t seem to be yourself?”

“It’s nothing, Uncle.”

“Indeed?” The Colonel leaned against the wingback of the chair Nathaniel was sitting in. “I could have sworn you spent the evening stealing glances at that young lady who was Justin’s guest. I wondered if that might have something to do with it.”

Uncomfortably he shifted. “You— you saw that?”

“Not to worry, my boy. I don’t think anyone else did.” The Colonel took to a chair across from him and leaned forward. “So… may I ask what the trouble is?”

Nathaniel struggled with it a moment, then told him, told him everything, embarrassed, the first time he’d spoken of it to another living soul. “It’s a mess, Uncle. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Why a mess?”

“Because she’s Justin’s sweetheart.”

His uncle raised an eyebrow. “Is she indeed? I’ve never known your brother to settle on any one girl.”

Nathaniel gripped the arms of his chair. “Clara’s not just any girl, Uncle. Believe me.”

The Colonel cracked a smile. “I know what you mean.”

“She’s clever and funny and ever such good company.”

“And very pretty, I noticed.”

He dipped his head. “Well, yes. That too.”

His uncle leaned back in his seat. “You can’t be blamed for noticing her.”

“But it’s more than that.” Nathaniel pushed out of the chair to pace the length of the room. “I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t sleep. And I can’t bear the sight of them together. It’s driving me mad, Uncle.”

“Oh, goodness.” The Colonel’s hand went to his chin. “That does sound serious.”

Nathaniel spun back to him. “I know I ought let go of it all! She likes Justin, not me. I don’t mean to wish him ill. But...”

“Nathaniel—”

“I know what you’re about to say! I must… find some way to let it go— let her go. Be a gentleman, for decency’s sake. Isn’t that it?”

He expected a lecture, on how to keep a stiff upper lip, to refuse to give in to baser impulses when family harmony was on the line. But Reginald had no recriminations for him, no shame. The Colonel only regarded him for a long moment, corners of his mouth tugging down. “No. No, son. Not at all.”

Nathaniel gaped. “I beg your pardon?”

Uncle Reginald stood and came to him, laying a hand upon his shoulder. “My dear boy, you mustn’t be hard on yourself,” he said. “If one thing is certain, a chap can’t help where he falls in love.” 

It wasn’t until Reginald said it that he knew. It wasn’t a passing fancy, or a mere indecent urge. He loved Clara; he was in love with her. 

“Uncle…” he said after a long moment. “I think I am in trouble.”

The Colonel turned from him to collect a brandy decanter from the sideboard. He returned to his chair and poured out two glasses. He held one out to Nathaniel.

The boy stared into tumbler. “What am I to do?”

His uncle looked to him sadly as he sipped from his own glass. “Son, I wish I knew to tell you.”

Nathaniel began to long for his coming Newcastle post, which he was due to set out for in a matter of weeks. When he first enlisted, he’d had dreams of some exotic service abroad, the way Uncle Reginald’s had been. But he was deeply disappointed to learn he’d been stationed to keep the books for a naval base on home soil. But perhaps some distance would help, wherever it was; at least the length of the countryside if not half a world away. It wouldn’t do to hang about here and keep on mooning after a woman he could not have. 

He had only a few more occasions to work through, a handful of dinners, perhaps a tea, and a ball. Usually he enjoyed evenings where everyone put on their finest for dancing and sociability, but it rather took the fun out of things when all they did was remind him of his lot. So he did his best to attend to everything but her, other conversations, other dancing partners, in the hope of easing his way through. It did not make it any easier to see her there, beautiful as ever, gliding into the ballroom on his brother’s arm. 

He nearly made it all the way through the night without undue hardship. But sure enough, he caught her out of the corner of his eye, leaning in close to Justin and whispering something he could not hear, his attention was inexorably drawn. He told himself not to look, but that was the one thing he never seemed able to do.

But then, instead of a whisper or a kiss, when Clara leaned in her delicate brows were drawn and her eyes bright and narrow, hissing at Justin through her teeth. Nathaniel could not hear her across the room, but her expression was enough to make it clear; she was furious at him, and he was not making things any easier on himself by being contrite. 

It occurred to him vaguely that he ought not to stare, but the look on her face, that upset and hurt, kept him rooted to the spot. He watched Justin in shock snapping back at her, as she kept after him with an intensity that, even in her distress, made her utterly beautiful. Then suddenly she whirled, skirt swirling around her, and dashed abruptly out of the ballroom. 

It was not his business, and it was certainly not wise. But thought that Justin might have hurt her spurred him into action. Justin caught him staring and glowered at him, but he was not to be put off. He strode across the ballroom floor, weaving his way around the other guests, to reach Justin before he could escape.

He seized his brother by the arm and yanked him close. “What have you done?”

But Justin jerked away, shaking his head in warning. “Leave it, Nathaniel! Leave it.” He twisted out of Nathaniel’s grasp. Nathaniel advanced, but his brother turned on his heel and stormed off through the crowd. 

Nathaniel glared after him for a moment, then remembered Clara. He glanced toward the door where she’d run out. The look on her face, so clearly in distress, had knocked all the fear out of him in that moment, but now it returned and he wavered. He knew full well he was pushing in, and he was hardly a neutral party in the matter. Would she find him an intrusion? Would she see through him to what he’d been endeavoring to hide all this time, and despise him for having an ulterior motive? If he went to her in the moment that Justin had hurt her and only made things worse, he would never forgive himself. But… if she was clearly suffering, and he did nothing, would he be able to live with himself then? Even if she did hate him for intruding, the idea of her hurt and alone was more than he could bear.

That settled it. Nathaniel breathed deep, and went out after her.

He found her in the antechamber just outside the ballroom, her back turned to the door, a slice of the light from the gas lamps cast across her bare shoulders above the deep V of her gown. He called out to her as he caught sight. “I say, Clara!”

She glanced back over her shoulder at him and he caught a glimpse of her face, and the distress slashed upon it. It stopped him short in his tracks at the sight of it; God, even blushed with upset, eyes wet with tears, she was still so beautiful. 

He stammered as she turned. “Are you— are you all right?”

She looked at him in undisguised shock. “Why, Nathaniel! What are you doing here?”

He swallowed hard, but pressed on. “Pardon me, but I saw you dash out of the ballroom, and worried something might wrong.” 

He paused. “When Justin didn’t go after you, I thought someone ought to.”

“Well!” She sniffed, and pressed a gloved hand to her cheek. “That’s very kind of you. Justin shan’t be following after me, not if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

She heaved a breath. “I mean I don’t think I shall be seeing so very much of Justin anymore.”

It took a moment before understanding hit him. “You mean— oh!”

She delicately pushed a tendril of hair out of her face. “Yes, well.”

“I— I’m quite sorry. He hasn’t— done anything ungentlemanly, has he?”

She huffed. “He’s Justin, isn’t he?” 

That made the anger from before well back up in him. “That prat. What’s he done?”

She crossed her arms and turned. “Oh, never you mind.”

He took a step towards her. “If he’s hurt you, miss—”

“Oh, you know him!” She threw up her hands. “It’s only that he has a wandering eye. One grows weary of feeling like the plainest girl in the room.”

The very thought of it was enough to make him careless. “Goodness, Clara, you could never be that!”

He could see his intensity threw her. “Oh, my.” He hastened to walk himself back.

“I mean— forgive me, but— as you said, that’s his way. It’s no fault of yours that he’s an absolute rake.”

“Perhaps not. But I’ve no patience for it any more.”

“Nor should you.”

Again she brushed nervously at her hair. “I only hope I haven’t made a perfect fool of myself. Losing my calm with him and dashing out of the ballroom for everyone to see.” Her gaze darted toward the light from the doorway. “Certainly I’ve ruined the last dance.”

“Not at all. I’m sure no one paid it any mind.”

She looked back at him then, her dark eyes intent. “You did. You had to run out here after to me.”

Those eyes felt enough to see right through him. “Well— I hated the thought that you might be alone in your distress.”

“Thank you for that. It’s quite kind.”

He relaxed a little at the thanks. “Think nothing of it, miss.” He dug into the pocket of his jacket and produced a handkerchief to offer her. She accepted it, and he watched her dab at the corners of her eyes. 

A sudden courage bolstered him, making him daring. “And, please… never think that my blasted brother’s conduct means you’re not beautiful. If I may say so… I don’t know how any man courting you could look away from you.”

Her elegant brows arced up. “Why, Nathaniel…”

He clutched at his tie, as it became suffocatingly tight all of a sudden. “Oh, that was dreadfully impertinent. Now you think I’m just as much a rake as he is.”

“Not at all.” She was surprised, but he thought she did not seem offended. “Quite the contrary… you are a true gentleman, Nathaniel Hawking.”

He could feel himself beginning to redden, but he could not help but smile. “It means a great deal that you’d think so. Is there anything else I can do?”

“You’ve been a great comfort to me tonight. Indeed, I think I shall be presentable to return.” She handed him back his handkerchief, then laid her fingertips on his arm. A strange warmth began to creep through him. “You ought to go out and enjoy the rest of the ball. You’re shipping out soon for your tour of service, aren’t you?”

That was enough to bring him back to ground. “If you can call it that,” he sighed. “They’re sending me to Newcastle, of all places.”

She smiled at that, for the first time since she’d left the ballroom. “Sounds as though you’re in for an adventure.”

“Indeed, fighting off boredom as I keep the logbooks.”

“They’ll make a soldier of you yet,” she said, almost chuckling, then breathed deep. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I had best find a place to freshen up. I’d like to make my return more dignified than my exit.” 

“Certainly, miss.” He bowed and turned to go. But he thought of the touch of her fingers on his arm, and again that sudden boldness grabbed him. He stopped to look back.

“Miss, since it will be so dreadfully dull away in the armory, it would be very cheering to hear a word from home now and again. When I have a moment, might I write you? Some letters might be just the way to pass the time.”

The smile she gave him was genuine, and hid all traces of her tears. “I would like that, Nathaniel.”

He beamed. Then, Nathaniel bowed again and made his way back into the ballroom.

**Author's Note:**

> More at www.mrshawking.com !


End file.
